


The Other WInchester 2

by milohohohoe



Series: Flora Winchester Series [2]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: As Time Goes By - Freeform, Demon Deals, Demons, F/F, F/M, Family, Gore, Henry Winchester Lives, Hunting, M/M, Men of Letters, No Slash, Not Canon Compliant, S8E12, dealing with death, more to be added - Freeform, timetravel
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-06-12
Updated: 2019-06-12
Packaged: 2020-05-02 04:41:57
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,627
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19192039
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/milohohohoe/pseuds/milohohohoe
Summary: So, we once again visit Flora and her brothers, this time in season 8, episode 12, when her grandfather falls out of a motel closet.Somethings are changed.





	The Other WInchester 2

**Author's Note:**

> So, I skipped a few seasons since the last part, but those will also be written and added in over time.

Year, many, many years have passed since the Wendigo hunt. Since then, they have died, and come back, they have defeated the devil and his self loving brother, the archangel Michael. And now, they are trying to find some peace, finally relaxing as they sit in the cozy motel room that they had booked. She sits in the armchair, a newspaper in her hands. It feels nice to read something other than lore and police reports. Dean is tying his laces, and Sam standing in front of the mirror, looking through his extensive amount of hair products. They are calm, for once in their lives. 

 

Well, they were, until, with a burst of light, a man falls out of their closet. His black hair is styled neatly, and  his blue suit looks rather expensive. Flora looks at him in shock, and he stares back at them, still on the floor. “ Which one of you is John Winchester?” He breaks the silence. 

 

Flora and her brothers stay silent, staring in shock as the man gets up.  “Please, time is of the essence! Which of you is John Winchester?” He repeats, his voice desperate. “ He ” Flora wants to tell him that he had died years ago, but Sam grabs her shoulder and shakes his head.

 

“ Uh, neither.” Sam informs him, and he looks even more confused than before.  That's impossible. That's absolutely... What did I do wrong?” Suddenly, a thought forms in Floras head. She had seen a spell in a lore book but had never seen or heard of anyone using it. But, before she can say anything, Dean steps forwards and almost shouts at the man in the suit. 

 

“  Who the hell are you, mister?”   
  


“ Not now. I'm thinking.” His response almost makes Flora laugh, but she holds herself back, knowing what's about to happen. And indeed, Dean angrily grabs the man, and slams him against the closet, making him let out a pained breath. Flora sympathizes with him. She knows too well how aggressive Dean can be.  

 

“Please. I can assure you there's no need for violence. One of you must know John Winchester.”  He begs, looking at Sam this time. “ I'll tell you what – when one of us falls out of your closet,  _ then _ you can ask the questions.” The stranger nods, and answers: “ Yes, my apologies. Is it absolutely essential, sir, that you keep your hands on me?” He looks at Dean for the last part, and Dean lets go and steps back.  

 

“ Thank you. Gentlemen, in the absence of any and all other explanations, I'm afraid this has been a marvelous, tragic misunderstanding. I'll be on my way.” He smiles, and points to the door, making an attempt to leave. Flora watches as Sam grabs him. “ That's not happening.” 

 

“ There are things of grave importance. I do not have time to deal with the likes of you!” Despite the man's hostile tone, Flora finds herself believing him. Dean picks up the handcuffs, and Sam grabs his wrist, as they try to chain him to a chair.  “You're not going anywhere, 007, till we get some answers.” he tells the stranger. 

 

But, in one quick motion, he slides his hand away, and instead both Sam and Dean are handcuffed to the chair. Flora snorts in laughter, forgetting that she should go after the stranger who has escaped through the now open door.  

 

“ How did he do that? You got ta be kidding me!” Dean complains, as they struggle to free themselves. Flora gets herself back together, and helps them unlock the cuffs, just then shattering is heard from outside. “ Baby!” Dean shouts and runs out, followed closely by Sam and Flora, who is not as worried about the car. 

 

They get to the Impala just as the man is about to start it, and Dean pulls out his gun and points it at the man through the shattered window. “ Nice taste in wheels.” He tells him. Sam opens the passenger door, as the stranger sighs and puts down his hands in defeat. “ Yours, I presume?” 

 

Back in the motel room, Flora watches as her brothers first slice his arm with silver, and then splash holy water on his face, which makes him laugh. “  And there with the holy water.”

 

“ He’s clean.” Sam,says, and Henry sighed, pulling down his sleeve to cover the small cut on his left arm. “ I could’ve told you that. He comments. “ Yeah, well, you can start by telling us everything before I beat it out of you.” Deans angered voice tells him as he steps to the chair. 

 

The stranger looks up at him with a pitiful look. “  I'm quite certain this is all beyond your understanding, my alpha-male-monkey friend-” Flora breaks out in laughter, and the stranger smiles at her, before continuing with a pitiful and amused look on his face. “ And violence will not help you comprehend this any easier.” he finished his sentence. 

 

Dean takes out his gun and points in point blank at the man, grabbing his shirt. Flora flinches at the sight of it, but does not intervene.  “ Let me tell you what I understand! Some asshat pops out of my closet asking about my dad, smashes up my ride. So why am I not getting violent, again?” He shouts, and at the mention of John, the man’s eyes go wide, as he quietly asks:  “John Winchester is your father?” 

 

The moment is interrupted by loud rattling=, which makes all of them turn their heads to the closet. The man has gone suprinsly pale, and is staring in horror. “ Oh my god.” He breathes, and Dean stares at him. “ What the hell is that?” 

 

“ Run!” He gives a one word answer, a d makes an attempt at getting up. The closet burst open for the second time that day, and a rather pretty looking woman steps though with a warm smile on her face. But still, Flora feels that something is off. 

 

“Henry.” She laughs. “Silly man, you forgot to lock the door. But then spells never were your best subject, were they? Why don't you be a doll and give me what I want? And I promise to kill you and your friends here quickly.” Flora’s blood runs cold. Well, at least now she knows she ain’t human. “ You know I can;t do that.” He answers.  

“ You're not a fighter, Henry.” Well, at least she knows his name now. In the corner of her eye, she sees that Dean has taken out his gun and is raising it to point at her head. The ginger raises her hand, and sends Sam, Dean and Flora slamming against the wall. Flora gasps as pain shot up her back, as struggles to get free. Henry moves, but is promptly stopped when the woman raises a hand.  

 

“Josie. I know you're still in there. You must fight this.” He says, his voice desperate and pleading. The ginger smiles at him warmly.  “I'm afraid Josie's indisposed, pet. It looks like it's just you and me.” Flora finally frees herself from the invisible grip, and grabs the demon killing knife. Jumping forwards, she buries it in her back. The ginger screams loudly, and falls to her knees, an orange light glowing inside her. Flora stares, expecting her to go up in a puff of black smoke, but instead the glowing stops, and the woman lets out a huff. “  Well, that is no way to treat a lady.” 

 

Sam grabs Flora, and quickly pulls her from the room, followed by Henry and Dean. The3y sprint to the Impala, Sam and Dean getting in front while Henry and Flora throw themselves in the back. Dean slams on the gas, and they take off before they can even close the doors properly. A man shouts at them as they swerve around an approaching car. 

 

They stop in the middle of an empty street, and Henry stumbles out. A few steps away, he collapses and throws up. Flora gets out of the car first, and approaches him, putting a hand over his back to support him. He breathes heavily, and Sam and Dean step out of the car. “ Are you okay?” Sam calls out, and Flora looks at him. 

 

“  Yes, I will be.” 

 

He throws up again, and Flora makes a disgusted face, but pats his back and pulls a handkerchief out of her pocket and offers it to him. He takes it with a thankful look, wipes his mouth, and looks to Sam and Dean. “ it's just all the adventures I enjoy are usually of the literary nature.” 

 

“  Yeah, well, now that you're done blowing chunks, you want to tell us who Betty Crocker was?” Flora glares at her brothers harsh tone. She knows she shoundt trust Henry so quickly, but he has a certain quality that makes her. 

 

“ Abaddon. She's a demon.” 

 

“No kidding. Where'd she come from?” Sam asked, and Dean continued:  Where'd  _ you _ come from?” 

 

“She’s from hell.” Henry told them, and Dean made a ‘you-don’t-say” face. Henry nodded, and looked at Flora. “ I'm from Normal, Illinois – 1958.” 

 

Flora looks at him, and finds herself surprised that she believes it. “ Yeah, right.” Dean scoffs, and looks at her. Seeing her serious face, he looks at Henry. “ Seriously?” He looks at Sam. “ That's what we've come to?” 

 

“If you could just take me to John, we could clear all this up, I'm sure.” Henry begs, and Dean raised a warning hand. “ I've told you that's not gonna happen.” 

 

“ Why not?” Henry sounds angry now, and Flora stares at him with a confused face. Why is he so eager to see her father? 

 

“ Because he’s dead!” Dean shouts at him, and Henry recoils, his face crestfallen. He turns away, and Flora glances at her brothers. “ No…” Henry mutters, and she grabs his arm. 

 

“ What’s it to you?” Sam asks, and he turns around again. 

 

“ Everything. I'm his father.”

 

Flora stares at the picture of Henry with a baseball, his arm around a much younger John, who was holding a bat. She stared at Henry- the real Henry- and asked. “ Are you alright?” He looked at her with wide eyes. “ I’ll be fine.” 

 

Sam and Dean sit down across them with plates of food. Henry smiled a little. “ After all, despite everything, I've just met my grandchildren, haven't I?” Flora nods. Henry holds his hand out to Sam, who shakes it carefully. “  Henry Winchester. It's a pleasure.”

 

“Sam.” 

 

“ Hello Sam.” Henry offers his hand to shake to Dean, who ignores it, instead picking up two baskets of food and sitting them down in front of Flora and Henry. Henry looks disappointed, and Flora gives Dean a glare. Give him a break. She mentally remarks. He just found out his son is dead. “ This is Dean.” She tells him. 

 

“ Right.” 

 

“ Well, this has been touching. How about we figure out how to clean up your mess, huh?” Dean pipes in, and Henry nods. “ Abaddon. Yes. She must be stopped.” 

 

“ How come she didn't die when Flora stabbed her?” Dean asks, and Henry stares at him. “ Because demons can't be killed by run-of-the-mill cutlery. At the very least, you'd need an ancient demon-killing knife of the Kurds.” Flora pokes his shoulder, and shows him the knife. “ That’s what that is.” Dean comments.  

 

“ Where did you get that?” Henry stares at the knife in awe. Flora sticks it back into her pocket. “ Demon.” She comments. “We've been around this block so many times.” Dean finishes the sentence. 

 

“Now, that portal or whatever it was you came through – is it still open?” Sam leans to Henry and asks. Henry shook his head,. “ I highly doubt it. Why?” 

 

“I'm just thinking if we can't kill this Abaddon –” 

 

“– maybe we can shove her back where she came from. How did you do it?” Dean finished. “  It's a blood sigil. Blood leads to blood. Or their next of kin.” Henry’;s words confirmed Flora’s thoughts. Of course, she had seen the blood sigil in some lore. “ But Abaddon came through it, also, right? So can you create this blood sigil again?” Sam continued, and Henry shrugged.  

 

“My blood, an angel feather, tears of a dragon, a pinch of the sands of time – I – I would need those and... at least a week for my soul to recharge, but, yes, it's possible.” he stared at them.

. “ You tapped the power of your soul to get here? I thought only angels could do that.” Henry nodded, and stared at them in confusion.

“ No, Sam, anything with a soul can do that.” Flora chirped in, and Henry gave her an approving glance, turned to her brothers. “You should know this. What level are you two?”

 

“ What level?” 

 

“ Level of knowledge.” Henry said, and Flora’s eyes widened in realization. “ You’re Men of Letters, correct?” Flora gasped and stared at him. “ You’re a Man of Letters?” She sounded amazed, staring at her grandfather with awe. He nodded at her with a smile, before Dean cleared his throat.

 

“I'm a little rusty on my boy bands. Men of what?” He asked, and Henry stared at him.  “Men of Letters, like your father, who taught you our ways.” Sam answered: “ Our father taught us how to be hunters.” 

 

Henry laughed, and stared at them with a shocked face. “ You’re not, are you? Hunters?” Dean and Sam gave him abitch faced look, while Flora almost stumbled across her own words, blurting out: “ I’m not!” Henry glanced at her. “ I wanted to be a Man of Letters.” She explained. “ I learned about them. About you. But I was never thought by anyone, sadly.” 

 

“ What the hell do you mean, not hunters?” Dean asks, and Henry makes a disgusted face. “ Well, hunters are... Hunters are apes. You're supposed to – you're legacies.” 

 

“ Legacies of what?” 

 

Henry and Flora exchange looks. 

 

The Impala stops in an old, messy alley, and Henry gets out of the backseat, followed closely by the other three. Henry stops at house number 242. “ What’s going on here?” He stared at the grey door, and Flora recognized the symbol. “ Wait, is this…?” She muttered, and Henry nodded. He brushes his hand against the worn away sign.  

“No….” He whispers. 

 

“ All right, well, this was enlightening.” Dean’s gruff voice interrupts the moment, as he claps his hands together once. “ Let's hit the road, huh?” 

 

“ Shut up, Dean.” Flora snapped at him, and Dean raised his hand, his voice complaining: “ We just spent four hours driving, okay? All he did was stare out the window and request Pat Boone on the radio. He had his time.” 

Flora stared back, and retorted: “ First of all, Pat Boone is good, second-” 

 

“It's just a facade, a way to rook our enemies into believing we are housed elsewhere.” Henry told them. “ Okay, enough with the decoder talk. How about you tell us what this whole “Men of Letters” business is, or you're on your own.” Flora opened her mouth to answer him, but Henry was quicker. 

 

“It's none of your concern.” He snapped at Dean, who retorted angrily. “  Why, because we're hunters? What do you have against us?” 

 

“Aside from the unthinking, unwashed, shoot-first-and-don't-bother-to-ask-questions-later part, not much, really.” Flora grinned, and Dean gave her a look. “ Seriously?” He asked. She shrugged. “ He’s not wrong. Why do you think I never wanted to be a hunter?” 

 

“ You know what? Wait a second. We're also John's children.” Sam looked at Henry, who sighed and looked down, then up again. “ You're more than that, actually. My father and his father before him were both Men of Letters, as John and you three should have been.” 

Flora’s heart flutters, realizing that maybe, just maybe, her and Henry could build the Men of Letters back up.

“ We're preceptors, beholders, chroniclers of all that which man does not understand. We share our findings with a few trusted hunters – the very elite. They do the rest.” Henry finished explaining. 

 

“So you're like Yodas to our Jedis.” Flora grins at the reference. Star Wars was one of the few movies she enjoyed, aling with the Matrix and MIB. Henry looks at Dean, uncomprehending. “ Nevermind, you’ll get there.” 

 

“Okay, but if you guys were such a big deal, then why haven't we – or anyone we know – ever heard of you?” Sam asks, and Flora pipes up. “ I have!” Sam stares at her. “ Right. I noticed. I mean other than you.” She shrugs, and looks away, a little hurt by his harsh tone. Henry thinks for a moment before he answers.

 

“Abaddon.” 

 

Pushing open the door, he stepped inside, and Flora is quick to leap up the steps and into the building behind him. Sam and Dean follow with a sigh. 

 

“ Why’d she do it?” Flora asks, catching up with Henry. He stops, and pulls out a small wooden box, engraved with a unicursal hexagram. “ I think for this.” He told her. “ What is that?” She asked, and he shrugged. “ I wish I knew.” He slid the box back into his pocket. “  Abaddon attacked us the night of my final initiation. All secrets were to be revealed then.”

 

“ Let me get this straight. You traveled through time to protect something that does you don't know what from a demon that you know nothing about?” Dean inquires, and Henry nods, walking down the hallway. Dean stares after him, and spreads his arms. “ Good.” 

 

Henry and Flora enter a room. He stares around the arcade like place, full of cheap toys and whatnots. Behind the counter is a young ginger, wearing punk style clothing. Sam and Dean join them in the room, and Henry holds out his hand. 

 

“ Hand me your...walkie-talkie.” 

 

“ You mean my phone?” Sam digs through his pocket. “Even better.” He grabs it from him and holds it up to his mouth. “ Operator, I need Delta 457.” Flora grins widely, and grabs the phone away from him, as Dean points a finger up. “ Who are you not calling?”  

Henry stares at him. “ Our emergency number.” 

“Yeah, not anymore.” Flora hands the phone to Sam, and watches as Henry steps further into the room, staring intently at the floor. “  They can't all be gone. There must be another elder out there who can help us figure out how to stop Abaddon and what to do with the box.” 

 

Dean steps to the front desk, and smiles at the punk girl. “ Hey, uh, hi, can we hijack your computer for a second?” Behind him, Henry scoffs and laughs: “ Like you could fit a computer in this room.” Dean stares at him, then turns back to the girl who agrees and turns the Mac to face them. “Sure.” 

 

Sam grabs the laptop. “ Yep. All right, um... give me a name – anybody who, uh, might have been there that night – one of those elders.” 

“ Um…” Henry thinks for a moment, before listing “ Ackers, David. Larry Ganem. Uh...Ted-” 

“ OKay here it is.” Sam interrupts. “ Uh, August 12,1958.” 

 

Flora can’t help but notice the look Dean gives the punk, and she rolls her eyes. 

“ A tragic fire at a gentlemen’s club. Uh, 242 Gaines Street.” Henry nods. “ This is 242 Gaines Street. But that was no fire.” 

 

Flora leans in to take a look at the article Sam has found. 

 

**“Tragic Fire at Gentlemen’s Club, 4 Dead.”**

 

It’s published on August 2, 1958. “ All dead.” She comments. “ Larry Ganem, David Ackers, Ted Bowen and Albert Magnus.” 

“ Albert Magnus.” Henry mutters, and Dean turns to him. “ Friend of yours?” 

“ Even better.” 

 

And somehow, they find themselves in a cemetery, equipped with shovels and flashlights. Sam and Dean are in the back, discussing something, while Flora walks next to Henry, intently listening to everything he says. “  These were my friends, my mentors, our last defense against the Abaddons of the world.” She nods, waiting for him to continue. Dean’s flashlight shines onto one of the headstones. “ Here’s your buddy, Albert Magnus.” He comments.  

 

“Albertus Magnus. He was hardly a buddy. He was the greatest alchemist of the middle ages.” Henry tells him, and squatted down next to the headstone. “ Ok, so, why is he buried here?” Sam asks, and Henry sighs. 

“ He's not. His was the alias we'd use when going incognito. I believe someone planted his name in that article... so that if a Man of Letters came looking for answers, he'd know something was amiss.” 

 

“ So someone wanted you to come to this grave.” 

 

Henry nods. “ The question is why.” Dean shines the light over the headstone, and stops over a symbol etched onto it. “ What is this?” He asks, and Flora glanced at it, recognizing it right away. “ It’s a unicursal hexagram. Aquatic star.” She looks at Henry, who nods, and she can’t help but feel proud. “ OUr crest. It represents great magic and power. They say it stood at the gates of Atlantis itself. Sam looked at it thoughtfully. “Hmm. It's on all the tombstones except for this one – uh, Larry Ganem.” 

 

He flashes his light at the tomb of the mentioned person.  

 

**LARRY GANEM** **  
  
**

**March 23rd 1926**

 

**August 12th 1958**

 

Henry crouches next to the grave, which has a different symbol carved into it. A cross of sorts. “ The Haitian Symbol for speaking to the dead.” He mumbled, then looks at Sam and Dean. “ You boys ever exhume a body?” Sam and Dean stare at each other. 

 

Sam and Dean are shoveling in the grave, while Henry and Flora are perched at the edge, staring down into it. 

“ Why the hell aren’t you helping?” Dean asks her between shovels. She shrugs. Dean rolls his eyes and gets back to work. They finally expose the coffin fully, and leaned down to get it out.    “ Tell me how I got stuck doing this.” Dean grunts as they lift of the lid and place it to the side. 

 

A skeleton in a suit lies in the coffin. Dean stares at the suit, decorated with medals. “  Hey, was, uh, Larry a World War I vet?” Henry shook his head. “No.” 

 

“ Then who’s the stiff?” 

 

“ No idea.” 

 

Sam looked at the metal tag on the suit.” Captain Thomas J. Carey III. That mean anything to you?” Henry shakes his head again, and Dean sighs. “  Well, somebody wanted you to see this, so maybe that somebody is Larry.” Flora, who so far hasn’t said a thing, pipes up.

. “ Maybe he, uh, survived the attack and hid  out with this guy's identity?” 

Henry nodded, and got up. “ Okay. What are we waiting for?”

 

He starts to walk away, and Flora hurries to follow. “ Cover that up!” She calls to her brothers, who stare in disbelief. She’s starting to act like him. Dean thinks, as they get back to work. He couldn’t help but feel worried. He knew she didn’t want to be a hunter, but he had hoped she wouldn't get that interested in the whole Men of Letters crap.  

 

Flora stood in the kitchen, waiting for the kettle to boil, listening to Henry whistling As Time Goes By. She sighs, and looks through the drawers until she finds a packet of tea. She can hear Sam, Dean and Henry talking from the other room. They’re talking about John, and she zones out, until the whistling of the kettle jumps her back into life. She pours the hot water into a mug, and puts in the packet. The tea from the motel is rather crappy, but better than nothing. 

 

“ Wait, wait, wait. Listen to this. According to Dad's journal, he once tortured a demon that said he made his bones working for Abaddon, who, it turns out, is a Knight of Hell.” She hears from the kitchen, then more talking about the knights of hell. She already knows quite a bit about them. 

 

“It's a hunter's journal. I assume Men of Letters – you use journals, too?” She hears Sam say, and knows they are talking about John’s journal.  “I intended to. I sent away for one the day before my initiation. [He lifts a photograph tucked into the inside cover of the journal to reveal the initials “HW” stamped in the leather.] As a matter of fact, judging by my initials here, this one, I believe.” Henry answers. Huh. So that’s what HW stood for.  

 

“ That was yours?” 

 

“ It must have arrived after….” Henry stopped. “ I’m beginning to gather I don’t make it back from this time, do I?” Flora took a sharp breath. 

 

“ We don't know for sure. All we do know is that Dad never saw you again.”

 

“ What did he think happened to me?” 

 

“ He thought you ran out on him.” Flora grimaced at the harsh tone. “ John was a legacy. I was supposed to teach him the ways of the Letters.”

 

“  Well, he learned things a little differently.” 

 

“ How?” 

 

“The hard way. Surviving a lonely childhood, a stinking war... only to get married and have his wife taken by a demon... and later killed by one himself. That man got a bum rap around every turn. But you know what? He kept going. And in the end, he did a hell of a lot more good than he did bad.” 

 

“ I'm sorry. I wish I had been there for him.” 

 

“ Yeah, it's a little late for that now, don't you think?” Flora hears Dean get up, rather aggressively, and walk to the kitchen. He enters, and slams the door behind him. “ Flora. Hey.” He says, and opens the fridge.

“ Don’t you think that was a little harsh?” Flora snaps at him, and he gives her a look, popping open a beer. “ No.” Flora sighs. “ The guy just found out his pals are dead, he’s never seeing his son again, and is stuck here. Give him a break.” 

Dean scoffed at her. “ Well, of course you’re defending him.” 

 

“ The Hell is that supposed to mean?” 

 

Dean opened his arms in a passive aggressive manner. “ Oh, come on! Flora, you’ve been practically attached to him ever since...he flew through the fricken closet! You’re like a damn puppy, following him around, everytime he so much as smiles at you, you look like a proud labrador!” 

 

Flora felt her cheeks go red. “ Yeah, no shit! He’s the first family member I’ve met you isnt a fucking hunter!” 

 

“ What’s wrong with being a hunter?” 

 

“ Nothing! But it's not for me! Alright? Hell, I’m a terrible shot, can’t handle gross things, and freak out under pressure! So when I heard about this Men of Letters thing, I was excited, alright?” 

 

Dean slammed his beer down on the table. “ Well maybe you should just leave then! Go off, find some pals for your little book club!” 

 

Flora opened her mouth to retort angrily, but her brother stormed out, and towards the door. 

“ It's the price we pay for upholding great responsibility. We know that.” Henry tells him, and he spins around on his heel. 

 

“ Your responsibility was to your family, not some glorified book club!” He shouts, and wants to continue, but then sees Flora’s disgusted and scared face at the door. He goes quiet, and storms out.  Flora sighs, and sits down next to Henry. “ I’m sorry about him, he-” 

 

“ You wanted to be a Man of Letters?” She’s interrupted, and she nods. “ I tried asking Pops about it, once. But he got angry, so I stopped.” Henry nodded. “ Well, I don’t know if there will ever be Men of Letters again, but i can tell you about it?” Flora nods eagerly. 

 

Sam and Dean are snoring peacefully in their beds, Flora staring up to the ceiling in her own. The light in the living room is still on. Then, a figure appears at the door. “ Henry?” She whispers, and he calls her over. “ Flora. I have to talk to you.” 

 

The next morning, Dean is woken up by Sam, who smacks his arm with a notepad. “ Hey, wake up!” Dean looks at him, mumbling nonsense.  “ Henry-he’s gone. And so if Flora.” Dean pushes himself up quickly. “ Where are they?” 

Sam shrugs. “ No idea. But Flora left a note, saying they’re gonna fix everything. It also says that we shouldn’t miss her, and that “ Dean was right, I should leave.” he stared at his brother. “ What did you say to her?”

 

“ Alright, I screwed up! But now, they might screw up.” Dean gets out of the bed. 

 

Flora follows Henry into the shop, and looks around. It cozy, with stacks of powders and grasses on the walls, and an Indian girl behind the counter. They approach her, and she smiles sweetly. 

“ Satnam. Welcome, traveler. What can I help you with?”

 

“ I can use a tear of a dragon and a pinch of the sands of time, but don't bother wrapping it up. I'll be using it right away.” Her grandfather says, Flora makes a mental note to remember the ingredients, and the shopkeeper shakes her head. “ I’m sorry, we do not carry those things here. But can I interest you in some Kava root? It’s great for anxiety”  Flora almost laughs. Henry does seem a bit nervous most of the time. “ In your window. Hunter Signs. I know who you are and what you are. Now give me what I need so I can be on my way.” Flora starts to become doubtful- what if they were at the wrong place? Maybe those signs were just there for decor- she hears a shotgun being cocked. Nevermind, they’re in the right place. “ I agree. You should be going, strangers.” 

 

Henry stares at the shopkeeper, but Flora steps up. “ I understand. You don’t know us, so you are reluctant to sell to us.” She lifts a spoon of yellow powder from the desk. “ Please, let me buy some chamomile before we go.” 

The shopkeeper nods, and grabs a paper bag, but before she can grab the spoon, Flora blows the powder onto her eyes, and quickly mutters, “ Bah-rah-gah-do.” The woman falls to the ground. “ Sleep well.” Flora comments. 

 

“ A sleeping spell?” Henry asks, and she nods proudly. “ Impressive.” He tells her, and moves around the counter to find what they need.

 

Back in the room, Sam and Dean have figured out what the two are planning. “ Alright, you find Larry, I’ll find Flora and Henry.” 

 

Just as Dean enters the shop, Flora and Henry have finished  drawing the sigil onto the wall. Henry is chanting incantations, and Flora watches from the counter, spinning around when the door opens. “ Henry, Flora-wait!” Flora and Henry turn and look at him. “ Dean. We have to try.” Flora tells him, and Dean shakes his head. “ And what if you die, huh? Who says you’ll even survive the jump?” 

Flora scoffs. “ You said you wanted me to leave.” Dean stared at her, and then at Henry, who had turned around. He looked like he wanted to cry. 

 

“ You cannot begin to understand how I felt after reading John's journal.”

 

“ Oh, I think I can. See, I've read that thing more times than you can imagine, and it hurts every time.”

 

“ Maybe so, but you didn't let him down! I did! Just like you said!” 

 

Flora is expecting another harsh answer from Dean, but instead, “ Well, I was wrong.” She stares at him, surprised. “  No! No, you were right. And I'm going to go back and give him the life he deserves, not the one he was forced to live.” 

 

“ And what if it's not meant to be?”

 

“ Then it will be!” 

 

“ How can you be so sure?” 

 

“Because it's the right thing to do! We can save him and stop Abaddon!” Flora answers this question. Her brother looks at her. “ How?” 

 

“ By going back an hour before she attacks and making preparations.” Henry tells him. 

 

“ If you do that and you change the past, we might cease to exist!” 

 

“ That’s a risk we have to take!” Flora yells. 

 

“ Listen, I understand that this is not your idea of a happy ending, okay.” Dean coaxed her, and turns to Henry.  “... and that – that you're disappointed that me and Sam are mouth-breathing hunters. But you know what? We stopped the Apocalypse.” 

 

“ If this works as planned, there will never be an Apocalypse to stop!” 

 

Dean’s phone rings. He glances at the other two, then picks up. “ Sammy?” His face falls.

“Abaddon.” He listens for a moment, then says one word before hanging up. “ Crystal.” 

 

“ She has Sam?” Flora whispers, and Dean nods, and points at Henry. “ She wants you and the key in exchange for Sam.” 

 

“ If we go back, we can stop this all!” Flora tells him, and he shakes his head. “ And what if you can't? I can't take that risk – not with Sammy on the hook now.”

 

Flora turns to Henry, and stares at him, hoping he’ll get the silent message. He stares back, and finally nods. “ Fine.” 

 

The Impala is parked outside of the warehouse. To an outsider, everything would seem calm and normal, but inside, Dean, Flora and Henry walk into a large room, Henry’s hands cuffed behind his back. “ You got this?” Flora asks him, and he nods with a smile. Then he makes a serious face, seeing the red haired woman waiting for them. 

 

“ Don’t do it, Dean.” Henry mutters. “ Too late for that now.” Flora stops herself from clapping at the excellent acting. “ That's the problem with you hunters. You're all short-sighted.” Henry locks eyes with Abaddon. “  Yeah, at least we're not extinct. “ Okay, that was a little harsh. “ Abaddon! I'll send Henry here over with the box. You do the same with Sam. No tricks.” Dean slides the wooden box into his pocket. 

 

“ My only interest is Henry and the key. You three are free to go.” Abaddon tells them. Dean shoves Henry, who doesn’t move. He grabs out his gun, and points it. “ You can do this walking or crawling, your choice.” Flora winces at the sight of the firearm. Okay, way too harsh. 

 

Sam starts to walk towards them, passing Henry on the way. Flora can see them say something to each other, and Henry already fiddling with the cuffs. Sam reaches them, and Dean quickly slices of the rope around his hands. “ Don't do this, Dean. This is a bad idea.”

 

“ Shut your mouth. Let's go.” 

 

Henry reaches Abaddon, and stands next to her. The three of them turn to leave, but a single motion from Abaddon makes the doors shut with a bang. “ We had a deal!” Dean shouts, spinning around. Abaddon smiles sweetly and laughs. “ Surprise. I lied.” 

 

She suddenly lashes out, burying her hand in Henry’s abdomen. Flora gasps, and almost runs forward. No, no, no….“ Henry!” Sam shouts. “ Wait. Wait.” Dean tells him. Abaddon rips her hand out, and Henry gasps, his mouth already filled with blood. 

 

Then, he smiles. “ You’re not the only one.” He tells her, and pulls out his gun, his hands now free. She gives him a shocked look, before he fires into her skull. Her head glows up, then stops glowing again. 

 

_ “ We have to do it. He’s family.” Flora says. Henry looks at her. “ So, what are you thinking?” Dean pipes in, staring at the road. “ Can you slow Abaddon down? Because if you can, I’ll do the rest.”  _

 

“ Whoo! What a blast!” Abaddon cheers. “ Now, give me the box.” She reaches into Henry’s pocket, but instead of the box she finds a pack of cards. “ Where is it?!” She screeches in rage, throwing the cards on the floor. Her loud voice makes the lightbulbs shatter, and Flora ducks her head as to not be hit. 

 

“ Okay. We can do this the hard way.” Abaddon comments, and grabs Henry. She breathes out, and a dark smoke comes out of her mouth, but it seems to meet with an invisible shield. She looks angered, and shoves Henry, who falls, slumped forwards. Flora takes off, and gets to him before Sam, grabbing him. Sam crouches down next to them. 

 

Abaddon tries to move, but an invisible force holds her in place as she yells in rage. “ Why am I stuck?!” 

 

_ Flora watches as Henry carefully carves into a bullet, and finally shows it to her and Dean. “ A devil's trap carved into the bullet.” Dean says, and grabs it. He loads it into a gun, and hands it to Henry, who stares at the firearm. “ You’re gonna have to get close. And “close” means it could get ugly.” It was those words that made Flora decide to call an old friend. “ I know. But you do that for blood.” Henry tells them.  _

 

Henry shakes in Flora’s arm. She puts a hand over his shoulder, and pushes him down, staring at Abaddon. “ You still didn't kill me.” She comments. “ No, but you’ll wish we did.” Dean grunts as he slices her head clean off. Flora felt bile rise in her throat, as Abaddon's empty blue eyes stare into nothingness. “ The demon trap in your noggin is gonna keep you from smoking out. We're gonna cut you into little steaks and bury each strip under cement. You might not be dead, but you'll wish you were.” He sticks the machete back into his belt. 

 

“ We did it.” Henry mumbles, and Dean sits down in front of him. “ No,  _ you _ did it. For a bookworm, that wasn't bad, Henry.” Henry smiles at Dean. “ I'm sorry I judged you two so harshly for being hunters. I should have known better.” He mumbled, and Flora starts to panic. What if- what if her ‘buddy’ lied? 

 

“ About?” 

 

Before he can answer, the wound on his abdomen starts to knit together, and Sam and Dean stare in shock. Flora breathes out in relief. It worked. He kept his promise. Henry stares down at himself in confusion. The wounds are still there, but it would seem the most lethal once have healed over. “ What the hell was that?” Sam stares at Flora and Dean. “ Who cares?” Flora gives back, avoiding his eyes. She knows exactly what it is. “ Let’s go home.”

 

“ Henry.” Flora greets him, coming into the room where he is lying on the bed. “ I, uh, wanted to ask you something.” Henry nods. “ Listen, I- I’m sorry you couldn’t go back..” She mutters, remembering their failed attempt, around a week ago. They had ‘killed’ Abaddon two weeks before that. He looks down. “ But- maybe- if you’d like… we can.. Rebuild the Men of Letters.” He looks at her, and she smiles. “ Now that we have the key, it is possible.” 

 

“ Flora? I have to talk with you.” Dean tells her, and she gets up. She follows him outside, where he leans against the Impala, and turns to her. “ Listen, I know you had something to do with the whole voodoo healing moment.” Dean tells her, and she looks down. “ What did you do?” Dean whispers. 

 

_ “ Flora.” The old man greeted her.  He wore a black suit and coat, and held a walking stick in one hand. Her gaze fell on the ring he wore. “ Hello.” She greeted him. “ I’d like to propose a deal.”  _

 

“ You made a deal with Death?” Dean almost yells, and she nods. “ It was the only thing I could do!” Dean sighs. “ And what exactly was the deal?” Now she turns her face away, turning red.    “ I… if I die, you can’t bring me back. I have to stay dead. Turns out that reapers are super stoked to see a Winchester dead for good.” Dean stares at her with pleading eyes. “ Flora..what are we going to do?” She smiles at him. “ Not die, I guess.” 

 

She turns and walks back in, her step springy. And as she’s getting further and further away, Dean can tell, that she made the right choice. He hears her humming. As Time Goes By.

**Author's Note:**

> There it is! Forgive my overly attached dumb ass for having Henry live, I couldn't kill him off,,, 
> 
> Thank you for reading, leave kudos and comment!


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